


Everything Wrong with Red Riding Hood

by Fallon_SF



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, M/M, Monster of the Week, Red Riding Hood Fusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:19:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallon_SF/pseuds/Fallon_SF
Summary: Through the years, Stiles comes to the conclusion that he is NOT Little Red Riding Hood and that wolf jokes are only funny if he's the one making them. Anyone who says otherwise can suck it.Even Derek.Especially Derek.





	1. People forget the beginning – the loneliness, the fear, the distrust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles met Derek.  
> Stiles did not like Derek.  
> Derek frequently slammed Stiles into walls.
> 
> It gets better...eventually.

The thing everyone tends to forget about stories like Red Riding Hood is that all of the characters had a life before “once upon a time.” The phrase might start the re-telling of their most famous moments, but it is hardly the beginning. Personally, Stiles thinks “once upon a time” is bullshit. It’s a cop out and false romanticism of what was clearly an important time in someone’s life. No one wants their trials a tribulations reduced to a children’s story, a bedtime recitation. Unfortunately, no one really cares what Stiles thinks and his life has become just that.

According to “once upon a time,” Stiles’ story starts on a cold night the day before his sophomore year of highschool and three days before the full moon. In the people’s version, it starts with a stroll through the woods and an unfortunate encounter with a wolf. This version was, of course, horribly flawed. Not only was this far from the start of the story, but it also wasn’t even his first encounter with the wolf. He wasn’t alone, he wasn’t taking baked goods to a family member and he did _not_ get led astray.

In reality, he was dragging his best friend through the woods looking for half of a dead girl’s body. He then got caught by his policeman father, who was leading the official search, inadvertently left his friend behind to be mauled by a crazed alpha werewolf, and was escorted home in the back of a police cruiser.

The only detail the story ever got right were the strict warnings _not_ to go playing in the woods – warnings that Stiles promptly and regularly ignored.

In reality, the story of Red and the Wolf began many years prior to Scott’s abrupt transformation into a creature of the night. The real beginning was a culmination of two very tragic events that happened several years prior. The first resulted in the flatline of a heart monitor beside the bed of a frail woman who, in the end, could not remember the name of her own son. Claudia Stilinski had been in the ground for just over two months when the second tragedy struck. Young Stiles was still too broken up about the loss of his family to do more than just notice the fiery destruction of another’s, but in the following year he’d come to know quite a lot about the Hale fire just from the time he spent sitting in the station while his father worked.

By the time Stiles actually _met_ Derek, he was practically an expert on the Hale fire. Scott, naturally, had no idea who the man in the leather jacket sulking towards them was, but all Stiles could think as they stood there was that _he knew exactly where Derek’s mother died, where his brother turned to a pile of ash._ Needless to say, it was not his finest first impression or interaction with another person. Scott, of course, was just happy to get his inhaler back and think of Derek as a douche. Stiles reasoned that even though he agreed about the douche thing, Derek had a pretty damn good reason for it.

Compared to the ones that followed, however, their first interaction was practically civil. For at least the next year, if someone were to ask Stiles about Derek Hale he would probably have explained it like this: “Stiles met Derek. Stiles did not like Derek. Derek frequently slammed Stiles into walls and occasionally, had fangs and claws.” Given a drink or two beforehand, he might also add that Derek was “hot like burning” and that he might have started some sort of sexual awakening within Stiles. It was an awakening that Stiles was man enough to admit would probably have been more of a crisis if he didn’t have other, _actual_ crisis to deal with at the time.

Possible bisexuality tended to take a backseat in his mind to murderous were-creatures.

When Scott turned into a werewolf and Jackson turned into a Kanima and Alpha packs and Kitsunes were suddenly a thing, Stiles had to revisit his policy on wanting more excitement in his life. Oh how simple things would have been if he’d just left Laura Hale’s upper half for his father’s deputies to find.

 _Or_ , a traitorous part of his mind supplied, _how much more fucked up they’d be and how much less prepared you’d be to deal with it._

 _Plus,_ it also kindly reminded him _; you’d be stuck with ogling Derek’s ass from across town rather than just a few feet away._

 

_\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

 

“Okay, but like, _picture this_.” Stiles held up his hands like he was making a frame, his voice hallway between jaunty and imploring. “We _give Peter_ to the coven as a sacrifice and part as unlikely friends.”

Derek whirled on him and all but snarled his reply.

“Did you forget about the part where the sacrifice would _tear a rip_ in reality itself?”

Stiles winced. He was hoping Derek hadn’t paid attention to that part of Deaton’s explanation. Seriously, what does it take for a guy to get rid of Creepy Uncle Peter around here? Stiles didn’t think he was asking for much, really.

“Okay, so not the best plan ever, but I’m working on the fly here.”

This time Derek came to a full stop with a huff and took a moment to school his features and inhale deeply before responding – or rather making demands.

“Stiles, why are you here?”

“Wha? Uh, trying to figure out how to stop crazy witches from destroying everything I hold near and dear to my heart? What did you think I was doing?”

Another huff.

“No. Why are you _here_? Scott, Isaac and I can take care of tracking the witches’ scent. Go. Back. Home.”

“What?” Stiles squawked indignantly. “No way dude! How many times do I have to tell me that you can’t keep pushing me out of these things? I can help!”

Derek huffed a third time and had to reign in whatever blasphemous thing he was about to spew in Stiles’ general direction. He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment before turning back to the teen (“I’m a legal adult now, fuck you very much”).

“I’m not trying to push you out moron. Go home, Google shit on witches, or however the hell you get information, and come up with a workable plan. Just do it _there_ , not _here_.”

“I’ll have you know that – wait, so you’re not just trying to get me out of your way? You’ll actually listen to what I come up with?”

“For god’s sake, yes. At the very least it’ll be better than whatever hair-brained scheme Scott’s going to think up.”

What Derek didn’t say was that he’d been listening to Stiles for a while now. He was man enough to admit that the human was far better at researching and planning than himself, but if he mentioned it to Stiles out loud he’d never hear the end of it. And right now, Derek just really wanted Stiles to get out of harm’s way and let him track the shit out of the witches who raided the flower shop. Stiles stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

“Oh.”

Derek huffed again.

“Stiles. Go.”

“Uh, right!” The human took a few steps back the way they came and then paused, twisting to look around. “Uhhh…” Derek shook his head.

“To your left. Keep heading west and you’ll come out just up the road from my driveway.”

“Right!” Stiles turned his whole body sharply to face the direction Derek told him and started off. “Thanks dude! Happy scenting!”

Not for the first time in his life Derek wondered what he did to deserve Stiles in his daily life. It was also still up for debate if he meant that in the sense that being around Stiles was a punishment or a blessing. That usually depended on the day, or the hour – possibly the minute. But the human was trying, and that was more than Derek could say for a _lot_ of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of a prologue than anything.  
> The rest of the chapters will be more along the lines of the latter half of this one.


	2. People Assume Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People Assume Identities - that Red is the helpless (or not so helpless) human and Wolf the physical manifestation of his name.
> 
> ”I wore the red hoodie one time, dammit” 
> 
> “It’s your favorite sweatshirt.” 
> 
> “Not helping, Derek.”

“Dude, that one was almost poetic.” Stiles said with a wry grin as he cleaned blood off of his dagger. Once he was satisfied, the human shoved it back into the holster slung across his chest. “I mean come on, ‘a boy with a name no one knows, who bears a red standard.’ It’d be awesome if it didn’t also piss me off.”

At this, Derek snorted. The body he’d been dragging flopped to the ground to join the other two as he relinquished his hold on it.

“I know I was the one to jokingly bring up the Red Riding Hood jokes and all, but people totally took it out of context. You’ve always been Red on your way to visit the family in the woods and I’m the hellion who lead you astray with fancy words and shit.”

“Fancy words and shit?” Derek shook his head, clearly not as bothered by the parallels as his human counterpart. If anything, Stiles’ anger amused him.

“I turn into a literal wolf Stiles, and you wear a red hoodie.”

“That was like, _one time_. Dammit!”

Derek’s eyebrow rose spectacularly high in judgment as he turned to look back at Stiles.

“It’s your _favorite_ sweatshirt. I’ve heard you talk about it in your sleep.”

This time it was Stiles who huffed, although his was more a huff of disdain rather than amusement. He shook his head and moved to help Derek carry the last body into the rune transmutation circle. Once everything was set and he could feel the flow of magic from the runes to his spark, Stiles paused in his complaining to coax the runes into performing the transmutation that would turn the dead hunters’ bodies into various vermin. When he was done, they were left with a much smaller mess to clean up. Derek threw the bodies in various parts of the alleyway they’d been fighting in and Stiles scrubbed the runes and blood from the ground.

“I’m just saying. You have eyes that literally glow red.”

Stiles interjected again once they’re back in the Camaro, driving away.

“Stiles.”

“No really, and everyone knows that I’m the one who can convince anyone to doubt their orders and their rigid moral codes. I mean I got you to stop brooding and lurking all the time right? I mean for god’s sake, you _trust_ me.”

Which, fair enough, re-acclimating Derek to trusting in others had been like trying to lead a mule to water – not only could he not force him to drink, but he had a hell of a time even getting the damn thing near the water in the first place. Derek was nowhere near the naïve teen that had blindly accepted Kate Argent into his life, but he trusted his pack and he trusted Stiles - Stiles who was still rambling about how he was worthy of the title of the Wolf.

Derek sighed and pulled his hand off the gearshift to rest on the human’s leg.

“Stiles.”

Thankfully the ranting stopped and the man turned to look back at Derek. (“I’m twenty-two and don’t even _like_ alcohol anymore Derek. What the hell is _wrong_ with me?”)

“What?”

“You can be the Wolf.”

He spoke softly and didn’t tear his gaze away from the road, but he didn’t need to in order to smell the happiness practically radiating off of Stiles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but you know what that means?” He paused for a moment. Let no one say that Stiles had completely trained him out of being dramatic. “We need to get you a set of claws.”

This time when Stiles grinned, Derek looked over to catch it.

“’The Wolf with a name no one knows.’ Now that, I could get used to.”

Derek shook his head fondly and turned his attention back to the road. They had a long drive back to Beacon Hills, to the loft, to _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote/nickname at the beginning that Stiles complains about is actually an excerpt from "Hide a Life of War" By Etharei.  
> It's probably one of, if not my favorite magical-realism Sterek work.  
> Go read it here!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/546446
> 
> Stiles just wants to be recognized for the badass he is, okay?
> 
> (There will be more actual sterek coming, I promise)
> 
> 11/14/17 Update:  
> So I had most of the next chapter written, but then I decided I hated it, so I'm starting over, but it's coming soon!


End file.
